


Various Jared/Jensen Drabbles 1

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-15
Updated: 2006-08-15
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Various Jared/Jensen Drabbles - three total.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Jared/Jensen drabbles**  
  
  
i.   
  
For [ ](http://wendy.livejournal.com/profile)[**wendy**](http://wendy.livejournal.com/): _Jared and Jensen at the gym. Jensen watching Jared work out._  
  
  
This had been a bad, bad idea.  
  
Jensen couldn’t remember the number of times he’d tagged along with Mike and Tom to the gym, mocking Tom for needing to get pumped for whatever shirtless scene Clark had that week, and just mocking Mike in general.  
  
However, he’d never had a problem concentrating on his _own_ workout…at least, not until he’d brought Jared along. Fucking Jared…who was currently doing crunches – shirtless – across the room while watching whatever daytime soap was playing on the overhead television.  
  
Jensen risked a glance, and cringed. _Days_. Of course.   
  
When he glanced back at his co-star, he found those intense eyes trained on him, a half-smile curving Jared’s lips as if to say _You actually did this shit for three years, dude?_  
  
Jensen scowled, reaching over to grab a heavier weight. Fucking Jared…why had he even brought him here?   
  
Jared came all the way up, grabbed his thigh and lifted his knee to his chest in a slow stretch. Jensen nearly dropped the weight on his foot, the dull thud barely registering through the thundering in his ears.  
  
“You okay?” Jared asked, coming to his feet and staring at him in something akin to concern. “Jen, you’re all flushed, man. And you’ve barely done anything. You need a break? We could come back la—”  
  
“Shut the fuck up,” Jensen cut him off, taking that as a challenge. He gritted his teeth, lying back on the bench and lifting the bar over his head. He glared at Jared, daring him to say another word. After a minute, his friend shrugged and headed over to a nearby treadmill.  
  
He kept his eyes on the mirror, watching the bunch and shift of Jared’s muscles as he started off at a slight jog, building in speed and endurance level until he was whistling and sweating and—  
  
“Fuck!” The bar wavered in mid-air, and Jensen dragged his gaze away and took several deep breaths. What the hell was _wrong_ with him? He’d seen Jared work out on-set plenty of times before. Hell, they’d sparred together just that morning.  
  
Of course, other people had always been around.  
  
His eyes did a quick scan of the empty room, the sound of a sniveling female seductress weaving her manipulation over whatever poor man was caught in her clutches echoing over the television speakers.  
  
“Need a spotter?” Jared’s voice, husky and breathy, came right in his ear; soft lips brushing against the tender flesh there, and Jensen shivered.  
  
“I, uh, no, I’m good.” Shit, he sounded as horny and frustrated as the dude on television.   
  
Jared leaned back, a towel he’d gotten from God only knew where thrown around his shoulders. He used one end to mop his face, shoved his hair out of his eyes and offered Jensen a grin. Something clenched low and deep in his belly.  
  
“I heard they have steam showers here.”  
  
And yeah, there was no mistaking _that_ look.  
  
“Do _you_ , uh, need a spotter?” Jensen asked, not even caring how lame it sounded. He couldn’t stop staring at dark, flat nipples and bright, white teeth.  
  
Jared’s hand closed around his wrist, eyes dark and determined. “Think you can get it done?”  
  
Jensen swallowed, let himself get dragged to his feet and across the room, down the hall, and shoved up against the door of the steam room.   
  
Right when Jared dipped large hands inside his shorts and closed his fingers around Jensen’s cock, Jensen suddenly remembered _exactly_ why he’d brought Jared along in the first place.  
  
  
  
  
ii.   
  
  
For [ ](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/profile)[**raynedanser**](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/): _J2. Ice cream. Hot.._  
  
  
“Vanilla.”  
  
“Christ, you _would_ say vanilla.” Jensen snorted, leaning back on his elbows, the rare Vancouver sun glinting off of the mirrored lenses hiding his eyes. Lips – too fucking pretty and pouty to belong on a boy, much less a full-grown man – curved and tilted, and Jared felt it somewhere below the vicinity of his belt.  
  
It was too damn hot. That was the problem, the reason he’d let Jensen drag him out here – wherever _here_ was. Jensen knew the Vancouver area way better than Jared did thanks to years of _Smallville_ and _Dark Angel_ , so why was he really all that surprised that Jensen knew exactly where to go when they both wanted to escape the absurdly weird weather and not run into anyone else they might know? No good could come of this. And Jensen…Jensen had lost his shirt somewhere along the way, and Jared was too afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he asked about it.  
  
“What the fuck’s wrong with plain, good old-fashioned vanilla?” he wondered, a bit indignantly as he warned his overactive imagination _and_ libido to give it a fucking rest for once.  
  
“You said it yourself. _Plain._ ” Jensen sat up, closed his fingers around Jared’s wrist and tugged just enough so that Jared ended up half-sprawled in his co-star’s lap. He still couldn’t read Jensen’s eyes, but there was no misreading that smile. “You _sure_ you like _vanilla?_ ” he murmured in Jared’s ear, lips brushing and teasing the sensitive flesh.  
  
“We uh, we still talking about ice cream, Jen?” Jared managed, half-hard and dreamy as Jensen’s hands began a slow glide up the back of his shirt. They were nearly plastered front-to-front, and the sweat on Jensen’s chest was quickly fusing to the paper-thin material of Jared’s tee.  
  
“I always say what I mean and mean what I say.” Jensen shifted under him, hips brushing against Jared’s, and…oh, yeah. He definitely wasn’t talking about frozen desserts. Jared swallowed a smirk, rearing back until their faces were inches apart. He relished the slow parting of Jensen’s lips, the almost anticipatory inhalation.  
  
“Okay. So what’s _your_ favorite flavor?”  
  
Jensen cocked his head, enough so that Jared could peer down the glasses and find the twinkling green eyes hidden beneath. “Cherry,” he purred.  
  
Jared blinked, then threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck you, dude.”  
  
“Now you’re catching on fine.”  
  
  
iii.   
  
For [ ](http://greenapricot.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://greenapricot.livejournal.com/)**greenapricot** : _J2. phonesex. Retribution, lamp, stairs._  
  
“What are you wearing?”  
  
Jared’s deep voice across the line made Jensen blink, then groan aloud. “Fuck you, dude.” His eyes found the soft glow of the clock by his bed and he rolled over, cheek pressed against the pillow and phone against his ear. “Do you know what time it is?”  
  
“Oh, were you sleeping?”   
  
The honest confusion in his friend’s voice was just too much for Jensen to handle. Only Jared could call someone at – fuck, three in the morning – and actually get away with it. “What do you want?” he murmured, eyes half-closed, voice dreamy.  
  
There was a deep breath, and then, “You remember what happened…in the trailer earlier this week?”  
  
Jensen’s eyes popped open. Okay, he’d been expecting this for days, and when it hadn’t come he’d pretty much resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn’t. They obviously weren’t gonna talk about it, so he wasn’t gonna worry about it. Even if the memory of Jared’s dick in his mouth did drive him nuts every spare moment he had to himself.  
  
“Uh, I uh…” He cleared his throat, hating the fact that his voice broke a bit. He could feel the flush working its way up his cheeks, and blew out an annoyed breath. “You wanna talk about this _now?_ ” he demanded, taken off-guard and defenseless.  
  
“I’ve wanted to talk about it all week.” There was barely a moment’s pause before he was rambling, “I just, you know, wasn’t sure it actually _happened_. I mean, I was there. I know I was there – I remember it like, in fucking technicolor, man, but I just…when you didn’t say anything, I just thought maybe I shouldn’t say anything, but it’s really bugging me and—”  
  
“Holy fuck, take a breath.” Jared’s obvious anxiety went a long way toward destroying his own. Jensen smiled into the darkness, into the pillow.  
  
“Jensen.” There was a frustrated growl, and then a soft laugh. Jensen could picture his friend in his own bed the next block over, probably rubbing his forehead and wearing his heart on his proverbial sleeve the way Jared Padalecki was wont to do. Instead, he added, “I am so goddamned horny right now, man.”  
  
Jensen froze. “What do you want me to do about it?” he managed, ignoring the fact that he’d just gone from zero-to-sixty like a twelve-year old boy with the wind blowing on his dick.   
  
“I dunno…” There was a definite whiny pitch to Jared’s voice now. “Just…talk to me, man.”  
  
“Talk to you.” Jensen shifted, swallowing and snaking a hand down his underwear. “I am talking to you.”  
  
“God, do you know how fucking good you felt?” Jared’s voice had gone deeper, husky and gravelly, and Jensen’s fingers squeezed involuntarily. “Your tongue, Jensen…”  
  
“Jesus, Jared.” And there was no holding back the groan. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it. It’s been days…”  
  
“I didn’t know what to say.” There was a rustling sound over the line, and Jensen imagined Jared shoving his huge fucking hand down his own pants. “It’s all I can fucking think about…your pretty mouth, Jensen. God. I’ve never come that fucking hard, I…”  
  
Jensen had given up any and all pretense; roughly fisting himself as he listened to Jared’s raspy tone revisit the events of the blowjob he’d given Jared after the last afternoon take six days earlier. His eyes fell shut, and he could almost believe he was there again – Jared hot and heavy on his tongue, in his mouth, Jared’s fingers gripping his hair and his hips working as he whispered and whimpered Jensen’s name again and again.  
  
“Dude, I’m coming over.” Jared’s breathing was heavy, and Jensen heard the squeak of mattress springs. “We should, um, have this conversation face-to-face.”  
  
Jensen’s hips bucked. “Oh, God.”  
  
“Gimme ten minutes.” And then there was a dial-tone, and Jensen was left panting into the receiver; eyes glazed, dick swollen in his hand.  
  
He’d barely managed to finally hang up when there was a loud pounding on the front door, and he was down the hall and opening the door to stare at Jared’s equally desperate features.  
  
“Uh, hi.” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling a bit as Jensen stared.  
  
“Shut _up_ ,” Jensen hissed, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him inside. They crashed into a table, sending a lamp to the floor in a noisy shatter of glass, and then were stumbling down the hall and up the stairs to Jensen’s bedroom.  
  
The last thing Jensen remembered before Jared, well, blew his brains out, was a soft voice murmuring, “Payback’s gonna be a bitch, Jensen.”  
 


End file.
